


Careful What You Wish

by AKMars



Category: NCIS
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKMars/pseuds/AKMars





	1. Chapter 1

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH...  
Chapter One: Wakey-Wakey!  
NOTE: This is a short flight of fancy into Ducky's mind...rated T for embarrassing scenarios in later chapters. Enjoy the madness!

**ncisncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

Dr. Donald Mallard, ME stood in the hallway of his mother's old house and sighed. It had been a long, wearying day and although glad to be home at last, the doctor realized that he had only a solitary dinner and a glass of scotch to look forward to as his evening's activities.

_It's the same routine...each night...EVERY night._ He sighed again, hanging up his coat and hat and moving with slow, heavy steps into the library. He didn't even feel like eating and went straight to the sideboard to pour himself a drink. He raised the glass to his lips and froze as a thought came to him. _Oh God...the others are right...I AM boring! Even to myself..._ It made him cringe and he tossed back the scotch in one gulp, coughing as the liquor meant to be sipped burned its way down his throat.

He saw himself through the mirror of his friends' eyes. The well-meaning, good-natured doctor...spinning away stories of people and places that they were sure never happened and adventures that he certainly could not have participated in. Ducky sighed a third time, his eyes wandering over the bookshelves that surrounded him. He eased himself down into the soft leather of the wing-backed reading chair. _If only something exciting would happen...something that I could fix or solve...someone I could save..._ He closed his eyes and worried with the subject, even as he felt himself nodding off... _I wish..._

**MIDNIGHT...AT MALLARD MANSION**

"Doctor...wakey-wakey!"

"Doctor Maaaaallllarrrrd..." a lilting, sing-song voice was calling his name.

"zzzzzzzzzzzz-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..." the old ME replied, blissfully unconscious.

"DONALD!"

"OW! What the hell!" The Scotsman leapt to his feet as he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Ducky heard a tinkling laugh and whirled around, rubbing his abdomen. He stopped, all concerns with pain forgotten as he stared wide-eyed at the apparition before him.

A woman sat perched on the back of his sofa. Her waist-length hair was shining silver and her eyes the bright green of emeralds. She seemed to be in her sixties, but the fluidity of her movements and the impish expression on her face belied her apparent age. She was wearing a long tartan gown, but the pattern included all the colors of the rainbow (and some Ducky didn't recognize). She had a matching bonnet on her head and carried a long, slender wand with an amethyst star on the end. Dr. Mallard rubbed his stomach again, divining this to be the source of his pain.

"Madam, who the blazes are you and what are you doing in my house?" Even in his confusion, Ducky still managed a modicum of courtesy. The lady laughed again as she skipped down from her perch and walked over to him.

"Donald, Donald..." she shook her head and eyed him over her glasses. "I would have thought after all the daydreaming and wool-gathering you'd done as a young lad, you'd know me."

Dr. Mallard stepped backward instinctively. He shook his head in denial.

"I assure you, madam, I've never laid eyes on you before and I ask you again...what are you doing in my house.." he glanced over at the clock and then back to her "at this hour of the evening no less?"

"Donald Alasdair Mallard, _you invited me!_ "

"I most certainly did not!"

"You did indeed! Your last thought before falling asleep was to wish for excitement and adventure and here I am!" She spread her arms and a shower of golden sparks flickered all around her.

Ducky rubbed his hands over his face. Obviously he'd had more drinks than he'd been aware of in his distracted state and he was hallucinating. Sliding his fingers up under his glasses, he pressed them against his eyes and counted to ten slowly. When he woke up he'd find the corner of a book pressing into his side. That would account for the pain and he'd go on up to bed and sleep this nonsense off.

"Eight...nine...ten..." He opened his eyes to see the psychedelic tartan lady still very much present and watching him with an expression of great concern on her face.

"Are you quite alright Donald? You're beginning to worry me."

The old ME collapsed on the sofa...fine..it seemed he was sleeping too heavily to wake up and he'd just have to play this dream out to the end. "Will you at least do me the courtesy of telling me who you are?" he asked in weary resignation, making a mental note never to drink on an empty stomach in future.

"Silly boy, I'm Fannie O'Fikshaun, your fairy godmother."


	2. False Pretenses!

"Fairy godmother?" Ducky started laughing...his subconscious had really come through this time. "It figures...my alcohol fueled dreams would give me an Irish fairy godmother...I must remember to switch to another brand of scotch when I wake up."

This observation touched off another bout of laughter. The ME didn't see the annoyed expression clouding the godmother's face. She crossed her arms and began tapping her wand against her shoulder, its tempo increasing as the doctor dissolved in a fit of giggles, bordering on mild hysteria. At last she pointed her wand at the older man.

 **"ENOUGH!"** A whirlwind whipped through the library, startling Ducky out of his reverie. He raised his hands to bat at the papers swirling around his head. Abruptly, the wind died and the last of the papers settled to the floor. Fannie glared at him, pushing her glasses back up on her nose and rolling up her sleeves.

"Right...now that you're done braying like a donkey, let's get down to business, shall we?" She grabbed the doctor by his collar and pulled him to his feet. Ducky yelped in surprise.

"Madam..."

 _"Godmother"_ she spat, dragging him out of the library and up the stairs.

"Godmother," he amended as he trailed helplessly after her..."Please, just what is going on?"

"Donald..." she sighed, leading him into his bedroom. "You were such a bright boy...honestly, when did you become so obtuse!" Fannie seized his elbows and stood him next to his bed. "I've explained this already. You," she poked him in the chest with her wand. "wished for more excitement in your life. I," she pointed the wand at herself. "am here to grant that wish!"

Ducky tried his best to absorb what she was saying, but the absurdity of this whole situation was making a muddle of his thoughts.

"M-Godmother..." he corrected himself at the literal flash in Fannie's eyes. "my wish? I didn't... _oh_!" Dr. Mallard recalled his train of thought before losing consciousness. He turned to look at the silver haired woman. She smiled at him, patting his arm in a gesture of encouragement.

"Now you're up to speed!"

"But...Godmother, I was just feeling a bit sorry for myself...I'd had a long day and..." he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "well...I wasn't serious."

The godmother's eyes flashed again.

"You made a wish and didn't mean it?"

"I..."

"I came all the way to _Washington, D.C._ for a wish that was made because you were throwing yourself a little pity-party?"

"Well," Ducky sputtered, "you see.."

Godmother O'Fikshaun was winding herself up into quite a tizzy. "Do you think you are the _only_ mortal I look after? Are you really that conceited, Donald?"

"B-but..."

"Well, inconsiderate as you obviously are, I still have to justify my trip out here with my section head at the F.B.M.I."

"Excuse me?"

"Fae Bureau of Mortal Intervention: Wish Fulfillment Division. I'm an SSL...a Senior Special Liaison, dear." She explained, seeing the look of confusion on Ducky's face.

"I can't claim my mileage and travel expenses as official Bureau business unless I actually do some magic. Which brings me back to you, Donald Alasdair!" She rounded on him again.

The small corner of Ducky's brain that wasn't disoriented was full of admiration, this small lady would have had his mother quaking in her shoes...no mean feat that!

"Serious or not Doctor Mallard, you are going to get your wish." The godmother circled her wand over his head three times and chanted.

_"Danger, excitement, romance these; bring to this one and quickly please.  
His life as is turn upside-down and to his boring self, bring renown.  
So...mote...it...be!"_

Ducky looked about. "Can you really do magic?"

His last thought before the blackness fell was how forceful the godmother's head-slap had been...


	3. Romance!

NOTE: the quote is the last 2 lines of Shakespeare's Sonnet 29.

**ncisncisncisncisncisncisncis**

Dr. Mallard awoke the next morning with a vicious headache and the sensation of having swallowed a mouthful of moldy gym socks. He dragged himself to the bathroom to force down a couple of aspirin and then stumbled into the shower. The water pounding on him helped bring him back to the land of the living, but he could not wait to get to work and have a nice, quiet cup of tea in the hour before his erstwhile assistant came on duty.

As he poured hot water into the pot of loose leaves, he had the nagging feeling that he'd forgotten something from the night before. He was still trying to place what it was when he heard a quiet voice at his elbow.

"Ducky..."

"Abigail, what a pleasant surprise! Would you care to join me for tea?"

"I'd love to, Duckman!" The forensic specialist pulled up a stool next to his. Dr. Mallard poured another mug and held it out to her. Abby took it, letting her fingers linger over his. The ME looked at her in surprise.

"Abby?"

"Ducky...I have something to tell you..."

"So, here is where you have disappeared to!"

Abby let go of Ducky's hands and jumped back from him, a guilty look on her face.

"Ziva!"

The old doctor looked from Abby to the Moussad agent who had just entered autopsy. "Ziva my dear, may I help you with something?"

The Israeli woman walked up to the goth girl and stared at her accusingly. "Making your move Abby? Did you think I would not figure out where you were."

"I can visit Ducky if I want too, Ziva!" Abby replied in a tight voice.

Ducky's head flipped from one woman to the other as if he were on the front row at Wimbledon. What was going on here?

"He's mine! No he's mine! No he's not!" they shouted in unison.

"Abby, Ziva! Stop this at once! What is wrong with you two?"

Instantly, both women were contrite.

"We're sorry Ducky." Ziva said, her head bowed.

"Yeah, Duckman...we got carried away."

"I've got it, we can share him!" Ziva's head snapped up and she looked at Abby.

The goth girl smiled, running her tongue over her teeth in anticipation. "Ziva, that's perfect!

Both of the women turned towards the old doctor. He took in the rather predatory looks on their faces and swallowed. "Um...Ziva...Abigail?"

"We love you Ducky." Abby said, stepping closer to him.

"We couldn't hide it any longer...Donald." Ziva breathed as she moved up beside the younger woman.

"I...uh, don't know what to.." Dr. Mallard took a step back for every one the ladies took towards him.

"Tell us how we can make you happy Ducky." Abby reached out to stroke his arm.

"We'll do _anything_ for you Donald." there was a definite purr in Ziva's voice now.

The Scotsman swallowed again, blushing up to his ears and resolutely pushed aside all the tempting thoughts that were spinning in his brain, trying his best to look stern. "What I think we should do is all...get...back...to...work!"

As if his words had turned off a switch, Abby & Ziva stopped stalking him. They both nodded and headed out the doors.

"Goodbye Donald..." Ziva looked over her shoulder and winked at him, before heading to the elevator.

"Later Duckman!" Abby grinned and blew him a kiss as she returned to her lab.

Dr. Mallard sank down at his desk and took a huge gulp of tea. It was then he noticed the dozen red roses in a vase that had been sitting there, a small white envelope nestled among the blooms. Curiosity overcame him and he reached out to pluck the note from the arrangement and scanned its contents:

_Dearest Don;_

_'Thy sweet love rememb'red such wealth brings,  
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.'_

_-Always Yours,  
You Know Who_

Puzzled as he was, Ducky had to smile...his mystery admirer knew his favorite sonnet. He looked at the doors, almost expecting Ziva and Abby to be back, but somehow he didn't think the roses were from either of them. This gesture had more finesse about it...spoke more patience and love rather than the raging hormones he'd just experienced.

The feeling that he'd forgotten something came back again...he did so wish he could remember.


	4. Excitement!

NOTE: quote is from Shakespeare's King John, Act 3, Scene 4. Also, as this is a 'fantasy scenario', obviously work-related protocols will be turned on their ears...please be forgiving.

**ncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

_The feeling that he'd forgotten something came back again...he did so wish he could remember._

 

Dr. Mallard was literally up to his elbows in work when clarity struck him like a hammer on an anvil. "WISH!"

Jimmy turned from where he was readying sutures for the body they were working with. "Dr. Mallard?"

"Ah...nothing, nothing Mr. Palmer. Will you close our petty officer and put him away? I need to...work up our findings."

"Of course, doctor...thank you!" The look his assistant turned on the ME was one of pure hero worship.

Ducky retreated to the autopsy showers, making sure to lock the door behind him.

**ncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

Dr. Mallard opened the break room refrigerator to get his lunch and found a white box with his name on it. He pulled it out and opened it to reveal a tray containing chicken cacciatore, mixed salad and a square of chocolate cheesecake. Another note was taped to the top of the tray.

_My life, my joy, my food;  
my all the world..._

_Bon Appetit,  
You Know Who_

Ducky smiled again, his benefactor knew not only his taste in Shakespeare but in food as well. He settled in to enjoy the bounty, managing to relax for a moment as he mulled through the events of the night before.

_More excitement in my life...what a double-edged sword that's becoming!_

**ncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

"Dr. Mallard, please come in."

"How can I be of service, Director?"

"I'm looking to cross-train some senior staff, with an eye towards making our department more flexible. You've been working with Special Agent Gibbs' team for a long time now...I think it's time we took you up to the next level."

"I.. _what_?" The ME looked at his boss as if he'd grown a second head.

The Director clapped him on the back. "You've got an eye for details and an analytical mind. Those coupled with your extensive military and world experience...I couldn't ask for a better candidate for a field agent. Here." He handed Ducky his new credentials.

"Mr. Palmer will assist a temporary ME until we see if he's ready to take over for you and you will move upstairs. Congratulations, Dr. Mallard." He gave the doctor a wry grin.

"Just don't let McGee call you 'probie'."

Ducky only realized he'd moved when he heard the office door close behind him. He looked at the badge in his hand and then down at the bullpen where his new teammates were clapping and calling for him to join them. Godmother O'Fikshaun's words echoed in his mind:

_"Danger, excitement, romance these; bring to this one and quickly please."_

"Oh dear..." he muttered under his breath.


	5. INTERLUDE:  FBMI HQ

NOTE: Use of a rude word ahead...hide the children.

**INTERLUDE  
FBMI, HQ: WISH FULFILLMENT DIV.**

 

SSL Fannie O'Fikshaun was taking her well-deserved lunch hour in the W.F.D.'s very plush breakroom. She'd swapped her sky blue hiking boots for a pair of carpet slippers that matched the Technicolor tartan of her gown and was munching on a pastrami and rye as she sat before a 60" plasma screen. A bourbon and coke was on the table next to her and she was absorbed in the scene playing out before her.

"Yo Fans! 'Sup?" a younger SSL dressed in a flowing gown a monochrome of every shade of pink known or unknown in the universe plopped down beside her on the couch.

"Hello Murhee-Soo, how are you dear?" Fannie liked the other godmother well enough but the girl had the annoying habit of wanting to be the center of attention all the time. She reminded Fannie of Donald's young friend, Tony...they were both a bit of a show off at heart.

"Slow day...the morts on my beat are freakin' quiet." She rolled her eyes at the injustice of it all. "You'da thought with this recession they'd be screaming for wishes!"

Murhee pooched her lower lip out in a pout. "They're just doin' it to piss me off, the wankers! I should..."

"Now, now dear, don't take it to heart..." Fannie interrupted what would have turned into a long tirade on how all the mortals of the world were against the younger Fae. "We all have a dry spell now and then. Put your feet up and watch what's happening with my latest case. Donald Alasdair is getting his wish's worth, I must say!"

Within moments the two godmothers were laughing hysterically at Dr. Mallard's interaction with his female co-workers, his dash to the showers and his interview with Director Vance. Murhee-Soo asked how all this happened and Fannie gleefully played back her meeting with the ME the night before. The young godmother was howling with laughter by the time she'd caught up with the chain of events.

"Fans you are it!" Murhee chortled, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "I gotta ask tho', what's with the secret admirer sub-plot?"

Godmother O'Fikshaun smiled enigmatically. "Oh, just watch and see dear...I think that might cure my dear Donald of casual wishing for good."

The two women settled back into the sofa and were soon laughing their heads off again. It was the best afternoon either of them had experienced in a long time.


	6. Danger!

WARNING: Red-light contact at end of chapter!!!

 

Newly promoted NCIS Special Agent Dr. Donald Mallard was starting to relax...a bit. He'd descended from Director Vance's office to the bullpen to an encouraging nod (from Gibbs), enthusiastic backslapping (by Tony and McGee) and an embarrassingly tight embrace (from Ziva, who also gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered "call me tonight" in his ear). He was half afraid that Ziva would offer to share her desk with him but before any other overtures could be made, Gibbs took firm charge of the situation.

"Alright...Duck's now an official part of the team. I'll get him settled and up to speed and I expect all of you to pay attention to the way he works...you'll learn a lot from a man with his knowledge."

The three Gibblets nodded with earnest fervor and turned looks on their new team member that bordered on worshipful. Dr. Mallard found himself edging closer to his friend in response. Not even Ziva's libido would risk Jethro's wrath.

**ncisncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

"Gear up, we've got a hostage situation!"

Ziva stepped up beside her new colleague and gripped his arm possessively.

"Ducky can ride with me!" She challenged McGee and Tony with fierce eyes. Gibbs was not intimidated and faced her down.

"Ziva, McGee, DiNozzo...take a car. Dr. Mallard will ride with _me_."

Agent David actually pouted as she released Ducky's arm and the team piled into the elevator. The old Scotsman was thinking this might actually work out when he felt a quick pinch on his bum...he cleared his throat in reflex, praying that it had been Ziva.

**ncisncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

On the ride over to the scene, Gibbs gave his new agent background on the case.

"Marine corporal just back from a tour in Afghanistan. Wife and kids say that he seemed fine, but for some reason he snapped this morning and pulled his sidearm on them." Gibbs slid his eyes from the road to the doctor for a moment.

"Looks like having a forensic psychologist on the team will come in handy. You'll take the lead on this one, Duck."

Dr. Mallard had been lost in visions of assisting the other agents to great glory when his boss' words penetrated the vision in his brain.

"The lead?" he repeated weakly.

"You heard me Duck...you're our negotiator. Get inside his head and find out what set him off." Gibbs glanced at his friend again, noting the wide-eyed stare the doctor had turned on him. He gave the older man a clap on the knee.

"Don't worry Duck...we've got your back." Gibbs slowed down and pulled over next to a tan ranch house. "This is it."

**ncisncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

The next few moments were a blur as Ziva fitted Ducky with a flak vest, taking more time than necessary to make sure it was fastened properly. He had an earwig attached, was handed a cellphone with a direct connection to the Marine and pushed towards the house.

"H-hello?" he spoke into the phone tentatively.

"You from NCIS?"

"Yes, my name is Agent Mallard, I'm here to negotiate with you."

"Fine," the hostage taker barked, "I'm going to open the door and come out on the porch. Meet me there and we'll talk." The phone went dead in Ducky's hands.

"Go ahead Duck, we're with you.." Gibbs voice called over the earwig.

Dr. Mallard swallowed and stepped up onto the porch. The door cracked open and he could see a dark eye peering through the narrow opening, sizing him up.

"You the agent I talked to?" The man asked.

"Yes. You said you wanted to come out and talk."

The Marine opened the door wider and edged out to stand next to the doctor, his 9mm pointed at the ground.

"Show me your ID."

Belatedly Ducky held out his credentials, making sure to flash the badge.

Quick as a snake, the corporal reached out and grabbed the ME, pulling him against his chest in a headlock and pointing the gun at his temple.

"Stay back, everyone! If you come near me I'll shoot him!"

Presenting a picture of stoic calm in the face of adversity, Dr. Donald Mallard was screaming and running in circles inside his brain.

_"What the HELL was I thinking? What the HELL was Jethro thinking?"_

The corporal pulled Ducky off the porch in front of him and started towards the NCIS cars, knowing the keys were still inside.

"Stay calm Duck, you're doing fine..." Gibbs' voice crackled over the earwig.

_"Calm, calm? You bloody well stay calm Senior Blasted Special Agent Gibbs! If I die, I will haunt you for eternity..."_ Ducky shouted in his head as he was force-marched along the sidewalk. _"I should be in my quiet, safe morgue now...not out here...oh bollocks!"_

Ducky opened his mouth to try and talk his captor down when a very determined ladybug decided to change its flight path and head for the corporal's rosebushes. Dr. Mallard sucked the small insect into his throat and began to cough and heave, trying to rid himself of the wretched thing.

His arm flailed, knocking the corporal's gun arm towards the sky. A shot rang out and the bullet whizzed skyward, clipping the end of a branch. The twig hit the sidewalk behind the corporal just as he stumbled backwards and it rolled under the heel of his shoe, causing his foot to slide out from under him.

The assailant landed flat on his back, Ducky falling on top of him and knocking the breath out of them both. The pistol flew out of the corporal's hand and before either man could recover, the rest of the team pounced on them. Gibbs pulled Ducky up and out of harm's way, Tony went for the gun and McGee and Ziva subdued and cuffed their hostage taker.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Congratulations had been offered from all around. Director Vance had even given the old doctor a nod from the top of the stairs before he headed back to his office. McGee, DiNozzo and Ziva had left for their usual watering hole around the corner from HQ and were waiting for Ducky and Gibbs to arrive for a celebratory drink in honor of the new probie's first capture.

Dr. Mallard stepped into the elevator with Gibbs and fidgeted restlessly on the way down. All at once the small, steel lined box stopped and in the dim emergency lighting his friend and now boss looked over at him.

"'Sup Duck?"

Dr. Mallard sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I can't do this Jethro! I thought it was what I wanted but I'm just not cut out for a life of excitement and danger." Ducky's tone held a note of desperation.

"My being an agent is a farce, we both know that. I should stick with what I do best, puzzling out the secrets of the dead and telling stories."

Gibbs lips twisted sideways in his signature grin. "Seems like you did okay to me today, Agent Mallard." He turned towards the older man, his intense gray eyes locking with Ducky's bright blue ones.

"I told you, we've got your back Duck...I will always have your _back_." Leroy Jethro Gibbs stepped closer and wrapped Ducky in a close embrace. He pressed his lips to the Scotsman's ear and whispered, "and you will always have my _heart_ , Don..."

Donald Mallard jumped like a scalded cat... ** _"WHAT?"_**

Gibbs pulled him close again and kissed the ME full on the lips.

**_"AUUUUGHGGHHGHHHH!"_ **


	7. The End!

The impact of hitting the floor woke Ducky from his nightmare. He rolled over onto his stomach and clutched his hammering heart. The old doctor sucked in great gulps of air, willing himself to calm down.

He pulled himself back up to sit on the edge of his bed and rubbed his face in both hands..."Thank God! It was a dream..."

Warm, strong hands slid up over his shoulders, massaging them with gentle tenderness.

"You okay there, _Don_?"

**"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"**

**ncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

_Deja-vu, Part Deux:_

The impact of hitting the floor woke Ducky from his nightmare. He rolled over onto his stomach and clutched his hammering heart. The old doctor sucked in great gulps of air, willing himself to calm down.

Dr. Mallard scrambled to his feet, whirling to look at his bed. He exhaled, noting that it was empty and, except for being extremely rumpled, still made. Ducky looked down at himself and, to his relief, found he was wearing the same clothes that he'd had on when he came home the previous evening.

His shaking legs gave way at last and he collapsed on his bed this time.

"It was a dream, it was a dream..." the ME muttered over and over. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand he saw that it was 7:30 in the morning...and he gave a sigh...today was Saturday, there were no cases pending. Unless Gibbs' team were called in, he'd have two full days to relax and shake off his nightmare. He started to chuckle as he stood up and headed to the bathroom.

Ducky stared at himself in the mirror over his sink. _God old man, you need sleep!_

His hair stuck out in all directions and his eyes had more lines around them than a spider's web. Mercifully, his head wasn't pounding from the alcohol he'd downed last night but his mouth did taste foul.

The Scotsman splashed his face with water and took his time brushing his teeth, making liberal use of his favorite mouthwash. He bent over and spit in the sink one final time and when he raised his head again, he saw a crystal bud vase sitting beside the toothpaste tube. His eyes locked on the psychedelic tartan pattern of the single rose that the vase held and then moved to the small pale blue envelope that leaned against its base.

Ducky jumped back from the thing like it was a cobra and regarded it with just as much wariness as he would the aforementioned reptile. When the rose didn't disappear or explode, he eased closer...still waiting for something to happen.

At last he was within arm's reach of the vase and gingerly plucked the envelope from its place, opening it with the care that a bomb technician would handle an unknown incendiary device. Ducky pulled out a folded piece of paper and opened it. A small _'poof'_ of gold sparks arose from the paper and a short message written in purple ink and an elegant hand materialized:

_Dear Donald-Alasdair;_

_Careful what you wish..._

_Affectionately;  
SSL Fannie O'Fikshaun  
F.B.M.I.-WFD_

Ducky had just enough time to register the fact that it had all been real when envelope, rose and vase burst into flames. The old doctor dropped the burning paper with a cry. All three items vanished before his eyes, leaving only a faint odor of burnt sandalwood in the air and no other trace of their existence.

**ncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

An hour later, Dr. Donald Mallard, ME was seated at his dining room table indulging in the comfort of a very strong cup of tea. He had just lifted the cup to his lips when his doorbell rang.

Ducky had no recollection of dropping the cup or diving under the table, but when the doorbell sounded again, he pulled himself to his feet and cautiously moved to the door.

_Apparently, I'm having a touch of...I suppose it must be post-traumatic-wish-disorder, in this case..._

Cracking the door just wide enough to see his visitor, Ducky was astounded to find Abby on his doorstep. She clutched a bag with the logo of the bakery around the corner from his house and the scent of fresh-baked croissants tickled his nose. He opened the door wider.

"Abigail? What are you doing here and a this hour?"

The forensic tech smiled at him, her green eyes bright and full of their signature laughter.

"Hey Duckman! Can I come in?"

"Of course my dear, please..." Ducky stepped back and let her inside. Abby placed the bag on Dr. Mallard's table, then frowned as she took in the shattered tea cup and spilled liquid on the floor. She turned back to him.

"Duckman, you okay?"

The old doctor moved past her in the kitchen for a dustpan, broom and hand towel.

"I'm fine, my dear...just a bit clumsy this morning." He smiled back at her in reassurance. To his surprise, he found himself calming down in response to Abby's being there.

She took the broom and dustpan away from him and began to sweep up the debris, making sure to get all the shards of porcelain left by the broken cup.

"You seemed really down last night, Ducky. I saw you in the parking lot before you left and I thought I'd stop by to make sure you were alright." Abby nodded to the bakery bag. "Bearing appropriate tribute of course." She smiled at him again and the ME felt warm all over from it.

Abby dumped the mess into the kitchen trash can, wiped down the table and floor and pulled another cup from Ducky's cabinet and poured him a fresh cup. The old doctor sat down next to her as the goth girl set out croissants, warm blueberry scones and the small tub of cream cheese she'd picked up to go with them.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Abigail, but you really didn't have to go to all this trouble."

Abby covered his hand with one of her own and looked at him, her peridot eyes serious. "Ducky...I...well, seeing you look so sad yesterday, I had to talk to you today..."

She stopped and Dr. Mallard was surprised to note that she seemed embarrassed.

"Abby?" he said softly, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing them with gentle encouragement. "What's wrong?" the concern in his voice made her look up at him and he found himself lost in the wonder of the tenderness in her gaze.

"Ducky, I know you think I'm too young for you but...I love you...I have for a long time now...last night, after seeing you...I knew I had to tell you, even if you laughed at me."

Dr. Mallard was stunned...the scenario in his wish-reality aside, he'd known for years that his feelings for his younger colleague ran deeper than he'd care to admit...even to himself. To learn that she felt the same towards him was a revelation.

"Abigail..." he began, but she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Her kiss was sweet and sensual, with just enough passion to tell him that she really did find him attractive. It was so different from the predatory approach that she and Ziva had used in his wish that Ducky knew this was the genuine article.

He returned her kiss wholeheartedly, telling her with his response how much he echoed her feelings. When they broke apart, both of them had slightly goofy grins on their faces.

The old ME laughed. "My Dear, will you join me for breakfast and stay for a long talk?"

Abby smiled back and stroked his cheek. "There's nothing I'd like better, Don."

Ducky felt warmed to his toes at her use of the nickname. They gathered up the pastries and teapot and moved to the living room, where a fire was already burning in the hearth.

**ncisncisncisncisncisncis**

 

**F.B.M.I. HQ, Wish Fulfillment Division breakroom**

The two godmothers watched the final scene play out and gave a sigh of satisfaction. Murhee-Soo turned to the senior liaison and gave her a high-five. 

"Fans, that was top-drawer!" 

The older godmother accepted the accolade with a slight inclination of her head and a small, smug smile. She had to admit it was a nice piece of work. Her review this quarter should be very positive... 

"What a hoot that the young chick from his wish showed up at the end...too funny!" 

Fannie O'Fikshaun smiled indulgently at her colleague. 

"There's no such thing as co-incidence dear...Ms. Abigail Sciuto and I had a very delightful conversation two nights ago when I visited her." The older godmother sighed in blissful remembrance of her stop at the forensic specialist's house. "Now there's a mortal who knows how to treat a godmother! Invited me in right away and offered me a drink and we had a cozy little chat before we even got down to business. She's a rare one, she is." 

Murhee-Soo looked at the other godmother shrewdly..."you mean?" 

"Oh yes dear..." Godmother O'Fikshaun smiled. "Abby made a wish of her own you see...but she was very earnest and sincere..." the elder fae held up a finger to emphasize her point... _"she meant it!"_

Both godmothers dissolved into another fit of giggles as they contemplated Dr. Mallard's own experience again. 

Fannie was the first to recover, dabbing at her eyes with a Technicolor tartan hanky. "I can't wait to see how things progress from here...but I don't think I'll be hearing from our Donald-Alasdair again...I think he'll find any wishes he makes in future will be more than fulfilled by his lovely companion..." 

**_-FIN-_ **

NOTES: Thanks to everyone who rode the wild wave of insanity that was this fic to its strange, but satisfying I hope, conclusion. I'm going back to Thorns now that I've got the giggles out of my system. 

I have a strange feeling though that we haven't seen the last of Godmother O'Fikshaun and her cohorts at the F.B.M.I.-WFD...after all there are more members on Gibbs' team who may need a helping hand, so to speak. Please let me know if there's any interest in further adventures and I'll do my best to provide. 


End file.
